


I Don't Believe in Destiny, But I Believe in You

by loveneverwantedme



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (if you squint), Arthurian, Brief Mentions of Panic Attacks/Suicidal Thoughts fueled by Survivor's Guilt, Canon Temporary Character Death, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dante's Divine Comedy, Doctor Who References, M/M, POV Alternating, Purgatory, The Silver Wheel, The White Goddess, Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, that was probably the most psychoanalyzing a tag has ever done before
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveneverwantedme/pseuds/loveneverwantedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur have both made a lot of mistakes.<br/>They're given a unique opportunity to make things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The True Way is Lost/ A Dark Wood

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of suicidal thoughts, Brief descriptions of Panic Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to combine chapters 1 & 2 because they were both really short and it just made sense to me. Also, I'm still trying to stick to my original plan of 13 chapters total. Although that's seeming increasingly optimistic, this fic could easily turn into a monster if I let it. I'm capping myself at 50,000 words. I've just started working on a novel, so I don't want to get involved in two big projects at the same time. Also I'm moving so if I don't update over the next week, that's why. And that's why I haven't been updating regularly so far. I promise to get back on track once I'm settled in my new apartment.  
> ~Thanks For Reading :)

# 

~

Merlin is numb. His surroundings seem distant, almost as if he were underwater.  Merlin is drowning, gasping for air that isn’t there. He’s just watched his best friend die. Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, whatever the hell that means. How can he be the future king when he just died in Merlin’s arms? Merlin is starting to doubt that Kilgharrah has a damn clue what he’s talking about. What happened to this great destiny he was always telling Merlin about? Arthur was supposed to do so much more. He was supposed to rule over Albion, a land where magic was free. Everything Merlin had been told about his destiny was lies. Arthur is dead.

Merlin wants to scream. He wants to break something. He wants to run away from everything. He wants to disappear. He wants to cry. He is crying, actually. He hadn’t noticed before now. Merlin’s actually not exactly sure where he’s wandered off to. He just had to get away from there. He’s trembling, no matter how much he tries to steady his hands, his knees. His feet finally give out when he stumbles over a tree root and he barely manages to brace himself with his arms before his face hits the ground.  Fresh sobs wrack his body, he just wants to die, it should have been him. Merlin’s one job, one purpose in life was to protect Arthur and he’s failed. What’s the point of him?

Turns out Arthur was right all this time, he is completely useless.Thinking of Arthur calling him such and rolling his eyes, barely suppressing a smile, it brings a suffocating tightness to his chest. It washes over Merlin in a cold wave that he will never see that almost-smile again and before he knows it he is being engulfed by darkness.

~

Arthur awakes to darkness and a chill that seeps deep into his bones. He opens his eyes and finds that it doesn’t much improve his range of visibility. He sits up slowly, feeling a slight twinge in his abdomen, and pushes himself to his feet. He turns slowly in a circle, trying to get his bearings. All he can make out is the vague shape of a tree trunk a few paces to his left, everything else is shrouded in darkness, pressing in from all sides and threatening to crush him.

The snap of a twig has Arthur reaching instinctively for his sword, which he is relieved to find is in it’s sheath, backing up against the tree in a defensive maneuver. He hears a rustle to his left, then his right. Something is moving out there, fast. Or perhaps there’s two of them, whatever they are. Arthur knows better than to hope for a deer or some other equally harmless form of wildlife. He takes a deep breath and readies himself for whatever monstrosity is lurking out there.

The next rustle is directly behind him and Arthur spins quickly toward the sound, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature causing it. After a moment he turns back around and nearly jumps out of his skin as something comes swooping through the air towards him. He stumbles back against the tree, sinking to the ground and raising his arms to defend from the inevitable attack. Except the attack never comes. After a few moments of relative silence and calm, Arthur lowers his arms warily.

The sight that greets him is incomprehensible. A beautiful white owl is before him, seeming entirely unrattled by the preceding events. It stares at him almost impatiently, as if it is waiting for him to do something, what exactly Arthur cannot begin to fathom. It cocks it’s head at him, giving him an appraising look. Arthur shifts uncomfortably not liking the odd feeling that he’s being judged by this damned bird.

Said bird seems to hear his thoughts, because it straightens up and hoots indignantly, hopping closer to him. Arthur tries to scramble backwards, but has nowhere to go, the tree trunk impeding his progress. The owl continues to hop closer, hooting at him all the while. It begins to peck at his clothes, pulling on the hem of his tunic. Arthur is fairly certain he’s gone mad, but he thinks the owl is trying to tell him to follow it. He decides he really has gone mad when he stands to oblige the pesky thing.

~


	2. The White Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Chapter 3 is finally finished. This took longer than I expected, but it ended up being almost 1400 words so hopefully that makes up for it. Hope you guys like it. If you do please leave kudos so I don't cry. And you can come fangirl(or boy) with me on tumblr if you want. Same un as here loveneverwantedme.tumblr.com.  
> ~Thanks for reading :)

~

Merlin wakes to a strange sensation. It feels as if someone is pulling at his hair and clothes. He opens his eyes to find an abundance of white feathers directly in front of his face. Merlin is confused. He turns his head so that he can look up at his feathered attacker. What he sees is a white owl pecking happily at his hair. Merlin is very confused.

The owl seems to take notice of his present state of consciousness and ceases it’s assault. It hops backwards, giving him some space. He sits up to get a better look at the thing. He cocks his head slightly to the side, as he often does when he’s thinking. The owl mirrors him. This makes Merlin straighten up in surprise. The owl does the same. Merlin is starting to get a bit freaked out. This is no ordinary bird. Merlin’s magic is humming under his skin, like it does whenever someone else with magic is near, but...it can’t be.

Although, Merlin does remember reading something about sorcerers changing their shape, disguising themselves as animals. Perhaps it is a sorcerer. Merlin should probably be scared, but he isn’t, actually feels a strange sense of calm washing over him as he watches the owl flex it’s wings. It really is quite beautiful.

The owl apparently has had enough of his staring because it hoots at him in what Merlin can only describe as an impatient manner. It then turns around, rather haughtily if Merlin does say so himself, and takes off into the air leaving Merlin in a state of befuddlement. He had been quite sure the owl had wanted something from him, but maybe it just had something against his hair. At this thought, Merlin smoothed said hair down self-consciously. Stupid owl, there was nothing wrong with his hair, even if Arthur did make fun of it sometimes.

Arthur. Yesterday’s events hit Merlin like a blow to the gut. What the hell is he going to do? He couldn’t return to Camelot until he found a way to fix this. There has to be some way to bring Arthur back, and Merlin is going to find it. He doesn’t care at what cost.

Merlin’s thoughts are interrupted by hooting. The white owl has returned. It perches on a low hanging branch nearby and glares at him. At least Merlin feels like it does. It’s a bit hard to tell with those beady eyes. Merlin swears the glare intensifies at that thought, and he really doesn’t like the feeling that the bird and possible sorcerer can read his mind. He attributes what happens next to this uneasiness.

The owl swoops unexpectedly and nips at Merlin’s hair. Merlin, for his part, screams like a little girl and flails his arms about in a vain attempt to protect himself. This bird is fucking crazy. Does it think his hair is a bunch of worms or something? Because he takes offense to that.

The owl returns to it’s perch and fixes him with the most unimpressed look he has ever seen. Okay, there is definitely a person in there, no normal owl could possibly be that judgemental. Merlin decides he doesn’t have to take this, being assaulted and judged by this owl, or whoever it really is. He pushes to his feet and makes to leave when he hears it.

 

“Emrys”

 

Merlin absolutely does not jump. Except that he does. He spins around in a circle, looking for the source of the sound, not that he really expects to find it. He knows exactly what that was. He’s experienced it before with the druids. Someone was speaking in his mind, and could be doing so from a considerable distance.

 

“Emrys”

 

This time it’s louder, sharp and annoyed. Merlin’s not sure what they have to be annoyed about, they’re not the one having their head invaded. The next time it happens, Merlin is ready for it, reaches out with his magic to try and track the source. He can feel that it’s coming from behind him, and it’s close. He turns on the spot and finds the owl still resting on it’s perch, staring straight at him. It slowly begins to dawn on him.

 

“No...it’s...you? But it can’t be!” The owl just hoots in return. Perhaps Merlin had been wrong, maybe it was just an owl.

 

“Emrys”

 

Okay, no that was definitely the owl. It had to be, that definitely came from right in front of him. He could feel it. The owl hooted in what seemed to be approval, and promptly took flight.

 

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just invade someone’s head like that and then leave with no explanation! Oi, come back here.” The owl does not turn around. After a moment’s deliberation on just how bad of an idea this was and where it ranked on a scale of stupid things he’s done, Merlin chases after it. He decides that he’s finally lost his mind completely. Oh well, it’s been a long time in the making.

 

~

Merlin isn’t sure how long he follows the owl. He notices the scenery start to change as he gets farther and farther from Camelot. The forest eventually gives way to a steep, rocky terrain, and Merlin finds himself stumbling over loose rocks in an attempt to keep up. Just as the sun is starting to set, Merlin realizes where he is. The owl has brought him to the Cauldron of Arianrhod.

Merlin draws a sharp breath. He feels a weight in his chest. This had been their last quest together, before everything went to hell. It hadn’t exactly been a happy journey, what with Gwen being enchanted by Morgana and Mordred tagging along, but Arthur had been happy in the end. And he had been alive. Why has this damned owl  brought him here? Merlin doesn’t want to be here.

He turns around to tell the owl as much only to discover that it has disappeared. It is nowhere to be seen. Great. He's been following that crazy owl all day and for what? What was it’s plan anyway? Kill him with a combination of exhaustion and painful memories?

Merlin sits on a large rock and cradles his head in hands. He really is exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He's hungry, too. Of course the owl has lead him away from the forest, so there was nothing nearby to eat. Maybe that was part of it’s nefarious plan. Merlin can't take it anymore. The torrent of emotion that had been raging inside of him all day was too much. It isn’t so much a conscious decision as a visceral reaction, but Merlin lets out a roar. It starts out rumbling and angry, but eventually it loses it’s ferocity and tapers off into something more akin to a whimper. Before Merlin knows it, he's on the ground, rocks cutting into his hands and knees, and he is crying.

 

“Emrys”

 

It's the same voice from before, but gentler and a bit sad, and this time Merlin could swear it had spoken aloud. He looks up and gasps at the sight before him. The water is glowing with white light, and in the center of the pool stands the most beautiful woman Merlin has ever seen. She is tall and fair with eyes like the ocean on a clear, sunny day. Her golden hair falls in curls so long that the ends dip into the water. Merlin is in such awe that it takes him several long moments to speak, and when he does his voice is low and raspy.

 

“W-who are you?” She smiles so radiantly Merlin is surprised he's not blinded.

 

“I am the Silver Wheel.

I am the White Goddess.

I am Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

I am the Gift of Life.

I am the Burden of Death.

I am the Power of Rebirth.

I am Weaver of Destiny

And Keeper of Time.

I am Queen of Avalon.

I am of many names,

your people know me best as Arianrhod.

And I can help you find your King.”

~

 

 


	3. The Lion, The Warlock & The Wardrobes (or The Valley of Princes & The Mountains of  Negligence and Indolence) Act One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> I really was trying to get this up before midnight on Saturday, even wrote about 800 words still tipsy off rum and cokes when I realized I was going to miss my self-imposed deadline, but I fell asleep before I could finish it. Anyway I hope you like it. I'm sorry if the whole thing seems a bit confusing at the moment, but that's partly because Arthur and Merlin don't know what's going on and partly because I'm laying the groundwork for a much bigger story. Hopefully anyone who's familiar with Celtic mythology and/or Dante's Divine Comedy can kind of see where I'm going with this. If not, I promise all will become clear soon. In fact, the next two chapters will really tell you what's going on with both Arthur and Merlin. The White Goddess's role in all this will make more sense too. We'll also see the return of some favorites from the show. The next chapter should be up Wednesday and will be from Merlin's POV.  
> ~Thanks For Reading :)  
> p.s. The title for this chapter might not make sense yet, but it will. I have two additional Acts planned as companions to this chapter. They will both be from Arthur's point of view and Merlin will be involved somehow, but I'm not telling yet.

~

Arthur has never been so exhausted in his entire life. He can’t possibly go on any longer. He’s been walking for what feels like days, but in reality is probably only hours. He’s not quite sure to be honest, time seems to move differently in this strange place, but that could just be his imagination getting the best of him. Arthur had quickly realized that he was not in Camelot any more. Or even any place vaguely resembling Camelot. Arthur didn’t have a damn clue where he was really. In all of his travels, he had never seen anything like this before.

 

The trees were so dense one could barely move and had the ever present fear of being suffocated. The dark was so impenetrable that one could not see five paces in any direction. Then there were the moans. The awful, bone rattling, gut wrenching, blood curdling, never ceasing, moans. Arthur didn’t want to know where they came from, or what could be the cause of such a haunting noise. He just wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

 

So he followed the white owl, clung to it’s presence like  a beacon in a storm. He felt strangely comforted by it, although surely the owl could offer no real protection. except that slowly Arthur started to notice the awful moaning and wailing becoming quieter, as if from a distance. The trees were not quite so confining now, and the darkness seemed less likely to swallow him whole. Could it be that this strange bird was actually leading him out of this nightmare?

 

Arthur had just built up hope that he would in fact see the light of day again, when the earth began to curve steeply upward, and he found himself struggling to stand. This wasn’t fair! He was so close. He could see the damned light, just a bit farther. Arthur lost the battle with his wobbling knees and fell to the ground. He felt tears sting his eyes as an overwhelming sense of uselessness washed over him.

 

He suddenly wished Merlin was here. Merlin would know what to do, he always did somehow. Merlin would hold him and tell him that it was all going to be okay, and Arthur would almost believe him. Part of him realized that there was something odd about that, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He just wanted his best friend. Everything was spinning, so Arthur only vaguely registered the white owl returning to him from where it had disappeared into the light before darkness overcame him, and he tumbled back into the receding treeline.

 

~

Arthur awoke to the sensation of being jostled about. His instincts kicked in, assuming it was an attacker, and he reached for his sword, only to find that it was not fastened to his hip. This was the point when panic kicked in, sheer white hot panic, and Arthur began to lash out against his attackers. He kicked and swung his arms about wildly, and generally made an utter fool of himself until he was dropped unceremoniously upon the ground. He immediately scrambled to his feet and looked around for something to defend himself with. He dove for a fallen tree branch and sprung up to his feet again in an instant.

 

“Keep back you heathens!” He brandished the branch about a bit hysterically. A few of his attackers made no attempt to hide their laughter at this. This just made Arthur even angrier. How dare they attack him and then laugh at him, do they know who he is? He could have their heads for this. Arthur chose not to dwell on the fact that he was pretty sure his status as King of Camelot held no power here.

 

He chose instead to dwell on how he was going to make it out of this alive. He was vastly outnumbered and armed with nothing but a very large stick. Luckily Arthur didn’t have to pursue this train of thought for long before one of his attackers spoke.

 

“Great King, we mean you no harm. We wish only to take you to the Valley of Princes so that you may rest and regain your strength, Sire. We most humbly beg your forgiveness for any alarm we may have caused.” The man who spoke then bowed so enthusiastically that Arthur truly expected him to tip over.

 

“Ri-ight…sorry, but, who are you? And how the hell do you happen to know who I am?”

 

“Well we followed the White Light, of course! She told us you would need our help.” He spoke as if his words made perfect sense, but Arthur was beginning to think he was mad. Great, of course he would get captured by mad people. When had Arthur ever had any luck?

 

“You do realize that doesn’t actually answer either of my questions?”

 

“Doesn’t it? Oh silly me, well of course the White Light, she told us who you are, we’re all quite excited about your arrival. Not every day one gets to meet the Once and Future King, now is it. And as for who we are, well we’re the princes of course, can’t have a Valley of Princes without the princes, Sir Bellamour at your service, My Lord. I was once the crown prince of  Napoli, but that was a long time ago.”

 

Arthur wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run far far away from this madman. He did neither but instead asked the question that had been nagging at him since he woke in this strange hell.

 

“Am I dead?”

~

 

 


	4. Atonement of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dry your tears, sweet boy, for all is not lost.  
> This is not the end,  
> It is merely the end of the beginning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it's been a week since I've posted. I'm kind of disappointed in myself because I had a pretty good momentum going, but I've been really busy lately so I'll cut myself a little slack. I'm not sure how happy I am with this chapter, but I'm posting it anyway because the only way forward is onward and I need to keep writing. Not sure how much sense that made. It's 6AM and I still haven't slept yet because I wanted to get this up. Well I'm off to bed. I promise the next chapter won't take so long. It will be The Lion, The Warlock & The Wardrobes ( or The Valley of The Princes & The Mountains of Negligence and Indolence) Act Two. Very wordy, but I couldn't resist the Chronicles of Narnia reference. This fic is just one big cesspool of references that most people probably won't get. Not because I'm clever, just obtuse. As always,  
> ~Thanks For Reading :)

~

“A-Arthur. You can...bring him back? How? Please! I’ll do anything you ask, just bring him back.” Merlin was shouting now. He knew he sounded a bit hysterical, but he didn’t care. He also knew he shouldn’t dare to believe what he was hearing, but he couldn’t help himself. He could feel hope blooming in his chest. It was warm and bright and it eased the cold wave of grief just enough that he could breathe again.

 

“No, young warlock, I cannot bring him back.” And just like that it was gone, swept away as quickly as it had come and leaving nothing but desolation in it’s wake. The worst part was that he had known better. It had all been too good to be true. Merlin felt rage begin to bubble deep in his core. Why give him hope only to snatch it away? What kind of cruel trick was this?

 

“You said you could help.” Merlin’s voice was even, but it had a rumbling timbre to it that betrayed the darkness simmering beneath the surface. The tears streaking his cheeks were no longer of grief or regret but of bitter anger. His eyes flashed like golden lightning. The White Goddess was not phased in the least.

 

“And help I can. I will aid you in your journey, but Arthur’s fate depends on both of your actions. Destiny has many paths. I merely lay the way, I cannot choose which path you take, Young Warlock. You choose your Destiny just as much as It chooses you.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re worse than Kilgharrah.”

 

“Ahh, the Great Dragon,” The Goddess gave another of her blinding smiles. “He is a wise and powerful creature, and an old friend. He will play an important role in the events to come. You will need his advice, Emrys, but you must also learn when to follow your heart. The Great Dragon does not always know what is best, and he can be quick to pass judgement.”

 

“Yeah, seems to be a lot of that going around.”

“You blame me for your King’s death.” It was not a question, and it was stated without a hint of ill-will or offence. It simply was. Nevertheless it hung in the air between them until it soured.

 

“Well you are the one who passed judgement on him, are you not, Triple  Goddess.” He spat out the title like the taste of it on his tongue made him sick.

 

“Your King was given a chance for redemption and chose not to take it, at your behest.”

 

“I was trying to save him!” Merlin was crying again. He hated himself for being so weak, Arthur would be ashamed if he could see, but the Goddess had struck a nerve. Merlin had been kicking himself since Mordred’s miraculous recovery.

 

“And in doing so you helped to bring about his demise.”

 

“I know.” Merlin’s voice was broken and defeated. He was so tired of fighting. “I failed. Just like I always do. I can’t do anything right. I ca- I can’t protect the people I love. I’m useless.”

 

“Dry your tears, sweet boy, for all is not lost. This is not the end. It is merely the end of the beginning.” With these words, something in the air shifted. Merlin could feel the earth around him buzzing with energy. It was as if the Goddess’ strange prophecy had awakened a force that lay waiting for this moment. It didn’t make any sense, but that’s what Merlin felt. The warm blossom of hope was threatening to burst forth again.

 

“The beginning of what?” It came out as barely a whisper. Human ears could not have heard it. Luckily that wasn’t an issue.

 

“Everything. The rise of Albion. The return of the Once and Future King. The reunion of Strength, Courage, and Magick. Your story is written across the stars, woven through the very Fabric of Time, Emrys the Immortal and his Righteous King.”

 

“But Arthur is-”

 

“Your King resides in Caer Arianrhod. His soul has not yet passed through the Veil.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means that he has been given a chance to atone for his sins, and be reborn through the magick of Avalon.”

 

“Atone for his sins! What sins? How can I help with that?”

 

“You cannot. You must atone for your own wrongs. Only then can you be reunited with your other half.”

 

“But that’s impossible. I can’t change the past. I know I’ve made mistakes, terrible ones, but nothing I do can fix that.”

 

“That’s where you are wrong, young Emrys, the past can be rewritten. It takes great power, but lucky for you, I am good.”

 

“Rewritten...you don’t mean…”

 

“I am the Keeper of Time. I can take you back to the start of your journey, allow you time to right your many wrongs. You must show compassion, mercy, and humility. Remember that your path has been one of your choosing. The decisions you have made have sewn the seeds of Albion’s destruction. You must plant new seeds that will flower into an age of harmony and prosperity, the likes of which the world has never seen.”

 

“But how do I do that?” Another smile, much softer than the others, and more bittersweet than warm.

 

“I cannot tell you that, Young Emrys, you must find those answers within.”

 

“I thought you were supposed to help me,” Merlin grumbled.

 

“I am.” The Goddess reached out and took Merlin’s hand between her own. Everything began to glow with a white light, soft at first but building in intensity. Merlin could feel the thrum of magic in his skin.

 

“Wait, no! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

 

“All will become clear, Young Emrys.”

 

“But how will I know what to do,” Merlin shouted, but he knew it was no use. The White Light engulfed him, and Merlin had to shut his eyes against the burning brightness.

~

 

 


	5. The Lion, The Warlock & The Wardrobes (or The Valley of Princes & The Mountains of  Negligence and Indolence) Act Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur sees himself in a new light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I hope I haven't confused anyone by merging chapters 1 and 2. This previously would have been chapter 6, but now it's not, obviously. Anyway, here's Act Two, hope you like it. *high fives self for longest chapter yet* *falls asleep*  
> ~Thanks For Reading :)  
> p.s. I like this chapter because we see Arthur get pretty emotional and I feel like he hasn't been nearly as much as Merlin so far. Also I like the lion.  
> p.p.s Sorry if it's a bit wordy, I tend to do that when I'm sleepy.

~

Arthur’s grave inquiry was met with uproarious laughter from his captors(rescuers, whatever). He didn’t see the humor in the situation.

“Well of course you’re dead,” said Sir Bellamour once he reigned in his gaiety. “We’re all dead, aren’t we. Can’t have Purgatory without the repentant souls and all that.”

“P-purgatory? Is that what this strange place is called...I thought I was in Hell.”

“Oh no! No, no, no, no. This is neither Heaven nor Hell. It is a place in between, yet separate. If one repents properly, they may gain passage to the Heavens.”

“And if they don’t?” Arthur was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

“Well...they stay here for some time, but eventually the unrepentant move on to Hell.” The ever present cheerfulness had gone out of Sir Bellamour’s voice. Arthur felt a bit guilty. (He also wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of being dead and possibly damned.)

~

They were about halfway up what Arthur had originally thought to be a very steep hill. He soon realized that it was, in fact, a mountain. It seemed the further up you went, the further there was to go. At first Arthur just attributed this to being a trick of the imagination, brought on by fatigue. He was now beginning to suspect some sort of sorcery. Maybe this whole place was just an incredibly elaborate illusion.

After another hour or so, they had made it perhaps another quarter of the way up the mountainside. Finally, they came to a small clearing that was relatively flat and had enough trees to provide some shade from the blistering sun and large rocks with smooth tops upon which they could rest. One of the party some Duke or other, gave Arthur some water, which he accepted gratefully. He had just begun to wonder if perhaps they ought to make camp here for the night, the sun would be gone within the next hour, when Sir Bellamour announced that it was time to move on.

Arthur groaned inwardly; He may have groaned outwardly too. He was bone tired. He was quite sure that another step would kill him. If he wasn’t already dead that is, which he was. Fortunately Arthur was pulled from his thoughts for the umpteenth time that day by another one of Sir Bellamour’s bizarre speeches.

“Now, now men. I know it’s been a long trek, and we’re all tired, but you lot know better than to rest more than a few moments upon Mount Indolence. If we don’t move now, we may never make it to the Valley. So on your feet, you lazy gits.” He clapped his hands together in an attempt to rouse them, smiling brightly. The motion reminded Arthur far too much of Merlin, and he felt a sickening twist in his gut.

Arthur stood. He needed to get to this Valley of Princes and then find out how to get the hell out of here. He was going home. The rest of the party soon followed suit and they resumed their slow progress upwards.

They had only been walking for about five minutes when Arthur saw it. At first he assumed it was just his mind playing tricks on him again. It was just a quick flash of golden light, seen from the corner of his eye, and when he turned it was gone. But a moment later he saw it again. This time he was certain. It had been a dragon, a tiny glowing dragon made of shimmering golden light. It was the dragon Merlin had conjured in the fire the day he revealed his magic to Arthur. Arthur prefered not to think about what happened after that.

He felt himself drawn to the dragon, longing to follow it. It couldn’t be the same one, and yet Arthur knew that it was. It made no sense, but nothing in this bloody place made any sense. He should have been more wary, considered that it might be a trap, but Arthur could think of nothing but the hope that the dragon would lead him to it’s conjurer, to Merlin.

~

He followed the dragon up and up, all the way to the very top of the mountain. When he reached the peak, the dragon dissipated.

“No! Come back,” Arthur cried. “You can’t do this. Bring me to Merlin at once! Come back, Damn you.”

“Anger will not bring you to your Warlock, Young King. Quite the opposite, actually, I believe your Wrath is one of the reasons you are here.” Arthur jumped, he had been quite sure he was alone. Slowly, he turned, and the sight before him was even more startling than his encounter with the owl.

“B-but you’re a l-lion. A bloody lion. You can’t talk.”

“I beg to differ.” Boy were the animals in Purgatory cheeky. Arthur turned white as a sheet.

“I’ve gone mad,” he proclaimed. “I’m dead and I’m mad. And I’m not sure which is worse.” The lion appeared to be laughing at him. Mad, he decided, was definitely worse. Being dead he could have reconciled eventually, but he was not prepared for being scolded and laughed at by a giant talking lion.

“Fear not, Young King, you have not lost your mind. The rules of logic are simply different in this land and yours. Which makes your next task a trying one.”

“Task? What task?”

“You must answer my riddle correctly to pass. If not, you will remain trapped upon the Mountain of Indolence until your Day of Judgement.”

“And if I answer correctly…I can go home?” Arthur knew this was probably a bit much to hope for, but he had to try.

“You will face many trials before you may gain passage to Avalon. This is but the first test of your virtue and penitence.” Arthur wanted to cry. He didn’t, but it was close.

“What’s the riddle?” His voice was even and stone cold.

“That,” said the lion, “is not the right question.”

“What the hell does that mean? I thought I was supposed to answer your riddle. How can I do that if you won’t tell me what it is?”

“Those are also not the right questions.”

“Then what is the right question?” He was shouting at the top of his lungs now, not caring that his opponent could easily tear him to shreds.

“Only you can know that, Young King,” answered the lion with a grin.

“How can I know a thing like that when I haven’t got a clue what you’re on about?”

“That-”

“Is not the right question, yeah yeah,” Arthur grumbled. “Fat lot of good you are.” The lion did not seem to take offense to this, on the contrary, he seemed rather pleased.

~

Arthur paced back and forth for a while. When that yielded no results, he plopped down on the ground and proceeded to stare at the lion, willing it to give up it’s secrets. When that failed, he pulled at his hair in frustration and screamed which succeeded only in thinning his golden locks. Eventually he took to smashing his head repeatedly into a nearby tree. This just gave him a headache. And he couldn’t even yell at Merlin for it.

Merlin. That was it. Merlin always knew what to do in situations like this. He just needed to think like Merlin. The flaw in this plan was that Arthur hadn’t a clue as to what was going on in Merlin’s head most of the time. The boy was a conundrum. But maybe that was the point.

“Merlin. Why Merlin?”

“That,” said the lion, “is the right question.” He sounded relieved, perhaps Arthur’s frantic energy was taking it’s toll.

“Really? That’s it?” Arthur’s eyes went wide. He had known he was onto something, but he hadn’t expected it to be that easy. He turned to face the lion with a bright smile on his face only to find that it was gone. In it’s place was a wardrobe. It was old and battered with peeling paint, but the mirror gave off a faint blue glow. Arthur didn’t like the look of it. His smile faltered.

The mirror began to glow brighter and the blue became a swirl of colors. Then the colors weren’t swirling anymore, they were forming something like a moving painting. Arthur felt all the breath leave his lungs. It was Merlin. It was Merlin with that dazzling smile that made Arthur unsure of where to look. He had begun to fear he would never see that smile again, and now it was breaking his heart. And then the smile was gone and Arthur would give anything to get it back.

Now he saw himself, red-faced and shouting, throwing things at Merlin who just ducked out of the way with a good natured smirk. The next image held no smile upon Merlin’s face, instead he looked on the verge of tears.

“Everything I do is for him, and he just thinks I’m an idiot.”

“No. No I don’t,” Arthur cried fruitlessly. Merlin wasn’t really there, couldn’t hear him.

Then came a succession of images of Merlin doing his numerous chores. Scrubbing the floors in Arthur’s chambers, gathering a pile of washing bigger than himself, mucking out the stables, polishing all of his armor. Arthur saw himself coming up with new and imaginative ways to work his servant to the bone, something he used to find entertaining. Now Arthur felt a bit sick. He saw Merlin collapse in an exhausted heap upon his bed, and then rise the next morning before the Sun.

He saw Merlin running errands for Gaius, and studying magic books all night until he lost the battle against sleep. He saw Merlin fight all manner of evil, defending Arthur, always defending him. He saw Merlin save his life over and over, throwing all concern for his own well being to the wind. Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He should have been the one doing the protecting, not letting Merlin put himself in harm’s way time and again, without so much as a thanks.

 **  
**“I’m sorry.” Arthur was crying now.

~


	6. A Road Paved With Good Intentions (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is incomplete but I really wanted to post something because it's been almost four months. I haven't had internet, which sucks, but hopefully will soon. I will get the second part up asap. Also I'm sorry if this kind of sucks but I mostly wrote this chapter in one night (well technically early morning but I consider it night if it's still dark) and with a very sleep deprived brain. And like I said it's unfinished, so it's all just setting up for the main event of the chapter and not much really happens I guess, lots of inner monologue from Merlin. I feel like I've been using inner monologue pretty heavily so far, but I think this chapter has the most by far.

When Merlin woke he had no idea where he was. That is, until he did. He bolted up from his makeshift bed. This wasn’t possible. He was home in Ealdor. Everything looked exactly as it had the day he left for Camelot. No...it couldn’t be. Had the Goddess really sent him back to the very beginning? How was he supposed to help Arthur from here?

Arthur. If Merlin really had been sent back to before it all began, that meant Arthur was still alive. Merlin jumped up from the floor throwing his blankets aside. He began searching frantically for his boots and the bag he knew he would have packed the night before. He needed to find Arthur as soon as possible and...warn him? He would sound mad. Protect him? Yes, because he had done such a fantastic job of that the first time around. Perhaps he would just never let him out of his sight, ever. That wouldn’t be suspicious at all.  
Merlin realized that he needed a plan. He had been hoping to glean more than cryptic prophecies and metaphors from the White Goddess. Why had she cut their conversation short? It was perplexing and infuriating. Merlin was reminded again of the Great Dragon. The White Goddess had said he couldn’t always be trusted, that he would lead Merlin astray. Kilgharrah had become a friend and mentor to the young warlock. Sure, there was that time he’d besieged Camelot, but he had been imprisoned for a very long time.  
Anyways, no one is perfect. Merlin’s hands weren’t exactly clean. The Great Dragon had helped him through some pretty tight spots, had been the uniting force that convinced Merlin his destiny lay with Arthur in the first place. Merlin had always felt a certain sense of comfort knowing that he could call upon such a powerful creature in times of peril. It was also the only remaining connection he had to his father, the only way for Merlin to feel some semblance of closeness to the man who left such a gaping hole in his life.  
While the White Goddess’ words left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, Merlin decided there was really nowhere else to turn. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was a bit out of Gaius’ depth, and the druids at this point in time would have no kind feelings towards anyone with the name Pendragon. Kilgharrah was his best option, and Merlin needed to act fast to...do whatever it was that he was supposed to be doing. Maybe the Great Dragon could shed some light on that. He had certainly always seemed to know more than he let on.  
By now Merlin had located both his bag and boots, and was just about to set off to Camelot when he heard a familiar voice call his name. Merlin suddenly felt like an ass. How could he have forgotten? He hadn’t seen her in so long and yet hadn’t spared her a moment’s thought since he awoke in his old home.  
“Merlin, there you are.” Hunith greeted him with a warm smile and a hug. Merlin relaxed into it, welcoming the simple gesture which had become so rare in his world. “Good Morning, love. Did you sleep well? You weren’t too cold, I hope?”  
“No, I was fine, mum. I slept great, like I haven’t in years, actually.” This earned him a bit of a strange look.  
“Are you sure you’re feeling quite all right?” She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, feeling for an unusual temperature. “You feel a bit warm, you should sit down. Have you eaten yet? I’ll fix you something.” Hunith rambled on as she tried to shove Merlin into the nearest chair.  
“Mum, I’m fine, I swear. Please stop fretting.” Merlin took her hands in his own and gave her his most reassuring smile. It may have come out a hint sad because he’d never realized before this moment how much he missed this, how much he missed his mother. Merlin cut that train of thought off before it could go too far. He had to stay focused, vigilant. That was the only way he was going to save Arthur.  
“How can you ask such a thing of me, when my only son is leaving home today? What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t fuss and fret all over you? Hmm?” Hunith crossed her arms and stood up straight, intimidating despite her short stature. Merlin had always secretly admired that about her, the ability to command such a presence. Merlin had always been quite tall, but he didn’t think most people would describe him as particularly intimidating or remarkable. Merlin’s thoughts distracted him enough that he didn’t have time to protest before his mother finally succeeded in pushing him into a chair. She proceeded to putter about the kitchen, collecting all the ingredients for what Merlin soon recognized to be his favorite breakfast.  
“Oh mum, that’s really lovely, but you don’t have to go to all that trouble.”  
“Nonsense. You are my son, and who knows when I’ll see you again. We are going to have a nice meal before you leave.” Hunith spoke in a tone of voice that brooked no argument, and Merlin fell silent after a respectful:  
“Yes Ma’am”  
The silence eased into a comfortable hum of the sounds of cooking. Before long, the house filled with wonderful smells. Merlin’s mouth watered and his stomach growled, and a small smile crept it’s way into the corners of his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so safe and content. With this revelation returned the bittersweet mood that his mother’s presence had brought forth. As desperately as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay in this beautiful world of home and family, safety and warmth and love. He had a duty to Arthur, to Albion. Merlin’s stomach growled. Well, surely Destiny could wait until Merlin had eaten a proper breakfast.  
~  
About an hour later, Merlin was making his way towards Camelot. He would have set off sooner, but his mother had fussed and kept pulling him back for more hugs and kisses, going on about her baby bird leaving the nest or something. Merlin didn’t appreciate the comparison, but had stayed his tongue when he saw the tears welling up in the corners of his mother’s eyes. That time he had been the one to sweep her into a bone crushing hug. Then Will popped in to say his goodbyes and Merlin felt like the scum of the Earth for not even thinking of him. Arthur wasn’t the only friend Merlin had failed to save. Merlin vowed to himself that he would not watch either of them die again.  
It was with heavy feet and an even heavier heart that Merlin left his childhood home behind once more. It was worse than the first time and he had been practically shunned for his magic back then. Except that he was reliving it, so really back then was right now, time travel was already proving incredibly disorienting.  
When Merlin was nearing Camelot, he was passed by a knight on horseback, riding in the opposite direction. Merlin recognized the knight, knew all of them by name, so he waved and smiled. The knight gave him a strange look and nudged his horse to go faster. Merlin immediately realized his mistake, the knight didn’t know him yet, but still thought the response was quite rude. He no longer felt bad for that time he’d knocked the man unconscious so he could sneak about the dungeons.  
It was strange to Merlin how much walking through the gates of Camelot felt like coming home. He had always thought of Ealdor as home, had longed for it many a lonely night. Yet approaching the castle, Merlin felt a rush of familiarity and rightness that had been absent this morning. He loved his mum more than anything, and Will would always be like a brother to him, but Merlin had ever quite fit in Ealdor, try as he might (which wasn’t trying very hard, to be honest.)  
Not that Merlin truly belonged in Camelot, not logically at least. He was the very essence of magic in a land where magic was outlawed. Anyone with any reason would have turned tail and run a long time ago, luckily Merlin had never been burdened with anything so cumbersome as reason. Reason told him that Camelot was no place for magic. The law told him that Camelot was no place for magic. And yet…  
Camelot was magic. Merlin could feel it coursing through his blood, singing in his bones. All that had been, all that was and all that could be. Magic was woven into it’s very being. They were two of a kind, make that three because then there was Arthur. Arthur who gave him hope. Arthur who challanged his father’s prejudices. Arthur who risked his life for servants. Arthur who promised the druids peace. Arthur who was born of Magic. Arthur who had accepted it in the end, accepted Merlin. Except that it wasn’t the end, Merlin had been given another chance and he’d be damned if he was going to waste it.  
So Merlin couldn’t really tell you why Camelot was home except that it meant Arthur. Arthur was Camelot, the two were inextricably linked. And maybe they were just two of a kind after all. Arthur and Merlin, Camelot and Magic, two sides of a coin.


End file.
